Speak Up
by SamCyberCat
Summary: The Black Ravens need to prepare for their most important day of the year, but Crow can't stop himself from being distracted. Crow/Badger.


**Notes:** Written as my half of a fanfic trade with Spectrumv. I was given a couple of choices for what to write, but as soon as I saw there was one about Crow realising his attraction to Badger and becoming frustrated by it, I knew that was the one I had to go for. Set several years post-PL4, when the Black Ravens are teenagers.

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><p>Crow was a very busy person with a lot to do and that had been the constant state of his existence for as far back as he can remember. Particularly as far back as when he'd first formed the Black Ravens, a group of children who run an underground black market.<p>

Only they're not children any more. They didn't think they were, anyway. Though for all the respect they got they might as well be. The snide attitude they received from adults in the area being exactly the reason they'd continued to don the Black Raven disguise long into their teenage years. Because people didn't know who the mysterious figure was and that confusion was enough of a veil to grant them the respect they deserved.

But such a large feat as running a black market certainly took a lot of work, especially when nine people are involved. And while the work was shared out between all of them, as the leader, Crow had the most to do of them all. At least he felt like he did. His days were filled with making meticulous records of the stock, everything they had sold, every person they'd sold it to and all those other details that help their work run smoothly. While his nights were filled with fronting the auctions they held underground, because he was good at working a crowd and liked the sound of his own voice. In between, he'd check on everyone else's work like a clucking hen and occasionally he'd get to run around the rooftops as the Black Raven. He enjoyed the rush.

All of this meant that he didn't have time left over for much else, something that had caused his friends a lot of worries in their early years of doing this. But over time it became apparent that Crow did this because he enjoyed it, not because he felt that he had to. And once he had realised he'd been worrying the others, Crow made more of an effort to be involved in hanging out with them again – going to sleepovers, taking days off to play about the old mine or the woods. All the little things that remind the group that they're friends first and foremost.

Even at such a young age, Crow felt that his life was very full and he did not have time for anything else that fell outside of this little bubble they'd created.

Which is why he regarded the recent distractions he'd brought upon himself with more than a little annoyance.

It had started out innocently enough – with Crow doing his usual afternoon checks on all the Black Ravens. They'd been having something of a slow day, so it wasn't with much optimism that he'd gone to ask Badger if he'd seen anything from his lookout.

When he got there, Crow couldn't see Badger at the post and assumed maybe he'd got bored and gone for a break or to take a leak or something. Given how quiet they'd been Crow could hardly blame him, but this still felt unlike Badger. The lanky lad was usually diligent in staying at his spot unless he was told to be somewhere else. So much so that sometimes Socket would come along to poke some light-hearted fun at poor Badger and Crow would have to tell him off.

The idea of Badger disappearing was so unusual that Crow had to make doubly-sure that he wasn't there. So he climbed the ladder, becoming increasingly aware that there was a noise above, making the wooden boards creak slightly. He panicked a little and hurried, hoping nothing had happened to Badger.

Though it turned out his worries were for nought, as Badger was indeed up on the lookout, doing some push-ups. He'd been so low down that Crow hadn't seen him when he approached and he instantly felt silly for worrying as much as he had.

Not as much so as Badger seemed to, however, because as soon as noticed Crow was there, Badger scrambled up into a sitting position, apologising hastily, despite there not being anything that he needed to apologise for, and explaining that he just does this sometimes to keep in shape for all the running he has to do as the Black Raven.

Crow spent the next few minutes assuring him that he'd done nothing wrong and everything was fine. Once they'd got that sorted, the two of them departed quite awkwardly, so Crow could get on with his tasks for the rest of the day.

Only this hadn't been as easy as Crow had hoped it would be, because for some reason his mind kept trailing back to Badger's push-ups and he couldn't figure out why. It's not as if he didn't already know that Badger did a lot of exercising to keep in good running shape and catching him doing just that shouldn't be anything unusual. But for some reason his mind kept replaying those few moments he'd seen of the push-ups before Badger had scrambled up. And the more he tried to get it out of his head, the more it kept coming back.

By the time he was sat at his writing desk, Crow had to admit that he couldn't even remember how the rest of his afternoon checks had gone, since he'd been that distracted. Even his stock records weren't going as well as they usually did, with him reading the same lines over and over without taking them in. Thank goodness he didn't have an auction to deal with that night.

He'd eventually gone to bed assuring himself that by tomorrow, whatever strange distraction Badger's push-ups had been causing him would be long out of his mind.

This ended up not being the case at all.

In the weeks that followed, Crow was increasingly noticing little things about Badger that he never paid attention to in the past. The way Badger walked, how he held himself, the nervous quiver of his lips that contradicted the confidence of his long, skinny legs. These were all details that Crow knew he should not be paying attention to, yet he still found them on his mind all the same.

He'd tried to shut himself away with his usual written work so he could block it out, but even that didn't stop his mind from wandering back to his friend.

And since Crow was bright, it didn't take him long to figure out why...

This realisation caused him more annoyance than anything else. Not because of Badger himself, but because Crow knew that there was no time for uncomfortable feelings like this. Crow was busy enough balancing his work and spending times with his friends, without an unwanted distraction like this hanging over his head no matter what he was doing.

No, he'd just have to hope that this would pass in time and that everything would go back to how it had been before.

But until it did go away, assuming it would do at all, Crow found himself slipping up on his other duties. Especially ones that fell out of the usual routine, since he could do most of his regular jobs on auto-pilot if he really had to.

It hit home when Marilyn came to visit him in the store room one day, with an amused in-the-know grin playing about her face.

"The others all think you've forgotten, Crow, so I check up on you. Mostly to stop them from worrying," she explained.

"Forgotten...?" Crow echoed. He had to admit that whatever Marilyn was referring to wasn't springing to mind.

She chuckled, "So you have forgotten! I thought you might have, with how much you've been off in your own little world lately. Good thing I came to see you a week ahead of time or the poor Black Ravens might not have been able to celebrate their anniversary."

Crow could have slapped himself.

How could he forget the most important day in the world to him? Even more so than Christmas or Bonfire Night or Easter or any of that other tosh! Their own little day, when the Black Ravens would come together to commemorate when they first became friends and decided to open the black market.

"Aw no... I-I didn't forget! Not really... Okay, maybe I did a little bit, but I mean-"

"Shh, it's fine," Marilyn cut in, trying her best to hold in the laughter, "I know you've been a bit distracted lately. So I just figured it'd be a good idea to give you a nudge about it. Not much time to make any plans if you want to do something big for it though."

"As much as I 'ate to say it, we might 'afta settle for a small party this year," agreed Crow, "Maybe we could 'ave a sleepovah at Wren an' Socket's, if their mum'll let us."

"Or maybe it'd be better to have it in the auction room," Marilyn steered, "More room, for a start. And we won't have their mum checking up on us every few minutes. You know how embarrassed Socket gets by that."

"Yeah, I reckon ya right there. Plus, we won't get in trouble if our party gets propah wild. Do ya mind passin' on the message that we'll be 'avin' it 'ere? Then I can work out the details," Crow asked.

"Right you are," replied Marilyn, "But Crow... if you get too distracted, you can always talk to me about it. I know that maybe Louis would poke fun and Roddy probably has a bit too much on his plate already for you to want to talk to them, but I am here for you. Just like we all are."

"Thanks, Mal. I'll keep that in mind..." mumbled Crow.

Though he knew that his current problem wasn't one he could talk about to the others. At least not without putting their friendships at risk.

"I'm sure Badger will understand as well," hummed Marilyn.

"W-wot do ya mean by that...!" Crow barked.

But Marilyn was already headed out of the storeroom. They both knew that she'd heard him, but her point had been made and no further discussion would make any difference to that.

So she knew that... that... well, she knew what Crow knew. And maybe the others knew as well. Although Marilyn was pretty sharp, so it wouldn't surprise Crow if she was the only one who'd figured out exactly why he's been distracted. Not that this thought stopped Crow from being paranoid about the whole thing for the rest of the day.

The one advantage to all this being that his planning and preparation for the Black Ravens' anniversary kept him busy enough to not have to deal with it for a little while. In the days leading up to their sleepover in the auction room, Crow somehow managed to put Badger to the back of his mind, so he could sort of the food, decorate the room, rearrange auctions and try not to spend more than they could afford. He worked at all this with a sort of furious determination, to the point that on the night before Roddy literally had to send him home.

"But Rod, it ain't ready yet!" Crow protested.

Roddy glared at him; "It'll all be done by tomorrow. We'll make sure of it. You're not the only one in this group, Crow. But you are the only one with bags so far under your eyes that I'm surprised you haven't tripped up over them."

There's no arguing with Roddy. Once he's set his mind on something, that was that. On a better day Crow might try to butt heads with him, but right now he was too tired. Which only served to prove Roddy's point.

Reluctantly, Crow slipped out of the underground base and started making his way back home.

On the way there, Crow's eyes darted from side to side as they would do if he was making one of his afternoon checks on the others. It was more out of habit than anything else, but doing this was what caused him to notice something hunched up on the lookout.

As he drew closer, Crow saw that it was Badger. He climbed up to join him, curious about what he was doing there so long after most other people had gone home for the night. His friend had his head lowered, but just under his mop of hair Crow could see his lips moving as if he was reciting something.

"Ya all right, Badge'?" Crow checked.

Badger almost jumped out of his skin with surprise and Crow instantly felt bad for interrupting whatever he was doing.

"...Huh! Y-yes, I'm fine... Sorreh to um... sorreh..." stammered Badger, just trailing off when he realised there wasn't anything to follow up this particular "sorry" with.

"Don't worry about it," Crow soothed, as he scooted over and sat down next to him, "I just saw ya up 'ere an' was wonderin' why ya 'adn't 'eaded 'ome for the night."

He watched as Badger fidgeted nervously where he sat, his friend taking a few moments before he replied, "There's no reason fer me t' rush 'ome, Crowlo. I were just... eh, practisin' while I got some time on me own."

"Practisin' for wot?" pressed Crow.

"Fer... you know, um, th-that speech that one o' us does each year...?" Badger answered. He was staring down at the wooden panels so that he didn't have to look at Crow.

"Yeah, I know. Are ya doin' it this year?" check Crow.

He was genuinely surprised to hear this was the case. The speech in question had begun as nothing special – simply Crow getting up during the parties to talk about how proud they should all be of everything they'd done. But over time it had become A Thing, to the point that the others would jokingly point out that Crow shouldn't be the only one allowed to do it. Crow had responded to this completely seriously, saying that the others were right and whoever does the speech should be the person who wanted to do it.

Over the time they'd been together, most of the Black Ravens had a turn saying their bit about why they were happy to be here with friends, doing all of this. Never once had Badger done a speech though.

The shy northern boy wasn't very good at words, getting easily tongue-tied when talking to new people. Around his friends he was usually fine, but doing something as big as a speech just wasn't for Badger. No one had ever pressured him into doing it, because they knew he wouldn't feel comfortable about it.

"I am... yeah..." Badger confirmed, clearly embarrassed, "Figured that I should... 'cause everyone else is always sayin' 'ow much this all means to 'em. An' it means a lot t' me, as well. So their words made me think that I should tell 'em in me own words. Onleh... I can't figure out what me own words are."

"That's propah nice, Badge'..." Crow whispered.

He looked across at Badger for a few moments, wondering how he must feel. It was a dark enough night that he couldn't make out too much, beyond the thoughtful frown his face seemed to be set in. All the same though, Crow could practically feel the discomfort radiating from him.

Swallowing his own nerves, Crow reached out a hand to put on Badger's shoulder. He felt Badger tense slightly at the contact, but he settled a moment later.

"I know ya gonna be fine," assured Crow, "It might not be the easiest thing to do, but it'll come."

"Easy fer you to say," snorted Badger, "You give grand talks at the drop o' a hat. It's what you do fer a livin'. Heck, you just open your mouth an' big words come out. I bet you doun't even plan 'em. While with me, well, most o' the time I can't even say 'ello without wantin' to run off..."

As guilty as he felt, Crow had to admit that Badger was right about that. He tried to search his mind for some advice he could give, but it was hard. Because a lot of his speeches were indeed improvised. Not all of them, but after years of talking to an audience you sort of just know inside what to say. Crow had never been in Badger's situation – he'd been fortunate enough to always have a great deal of confidence. Talking came naturally to him most of the time. Except when it came to... the matter that's been on his mind lately, but that fell under the category of 'subjects to not be talked about right now'. For the most part, Crow knew what to talk about, when to talk about it and how to deliver his speeches.

Because of that, he shouldn't have been having as much of a struggle coming up with advice for Badger as he was.

"Maybe it might 'elp is ya break it down," he offered, after a pause, "It must be a massive deal thinkin' about talkin' to nine people. But don't think about that part. Think about each person in turn an' forget all the others. Think about what ya wanna say to each of 'em, wot it is about that person that makes ya 'appy to work with 'em everyday. Then talk as if ya were talkin' to just that person, only keep it vague. Aftah that ya can go on to talk about the next one an' the next. Until before ya know it, ya will 'ave given an 'ole speech an' it won't feel like a big deal. It's all about breakin' the biggah problem into smallah ones ya can manage."

"That's a load o' rubbish, Crow," dismissed Badger. He sounded genuinely amused though, enough so that Crow could hope he'd helped him get away from his nerves for just a moment.

"No it ain't! That's well good advice, that is!" Crow mock-argued, "Why don't ya try it on me now? Just look at me an' say wot it is about me that makes ya glad to be a Black Raven."

This was clearly a mistake. One that Crow didn't realise until after it had already come out of his mouth. Badger clammed up completely again, making a noise that sounded almost like a squeak, before jamming his mouth shut. He then stared up at Crow, the two of them looking as uncomfortable about this as each other.

Having to face Badger's gaze made the hairs prickle on the back of Crow's neck. All of what he'd been trying to avoid thinking about these past few weeks had come back with an intensity like never before, combined with this new sort of fear that Crow had never experienced.

He opened his mouth. His intent was to explain to Badger that this had been a bad suggestion and he didn't have to do it. But for a rare moment, Crow was the one stuck not knowing what to say.

And then Badger grinned.

"You are a total pillock, Crowlo. You know that?" he checked.

The complete terror of the moments gone by were replaced with indignity, which Crow found was a lot more up his street to deal with.

"Ya think so? Is that wot it is about me that makes ya glad to be a Black Raven?" pressed Crow.

Badger got to his feet. He put a hand on Crow's shoulder to help himself up, but then walked past the stout leader without meeting his eyes.

"Yeah, it is," Badger concluded, before he hopped onto the ladder.

"There ya go then, just say that in ya speech," jeered Crow.

He didn't get a reply to that. Instead Badger just held up a hand to wave goodbye to him, clearly about to head off home.

"I'm lookin' forward to it!" Crow called after. He was perhaps louder than he should have been, given that most other people in the nearby houses would be asleep by now. But for the moment he didn't care.

That talk left Crow feeling a strange sort of rush. He practically skipped home after that, distracted by failed attempts to make sense of everything that had just happened. Part of him felt happy that the talk seemed to make Badger feel more confident than Crow had seen him in a while, but at the same time he also felt embarrassed at the awful advice he'd given Badger and a little bit scared of Badger's stern stare, which came back to his mind too frequently. Overall, he felt a gleeful sort of terror. It was hard to explain.

The glow of their conversation stayed with Crow until the next morning. The morning of the Black Ravens' anniversary. At which point, it all seemed to crumble in on itself and remind him that he has far, far too much to do to be getting lost in a talk that surely didn't mean as much to Badger as it did to him. Because Badger had no reason to get all caught up in confusing feelings like Crow was.

Crow cursed himself. He could have spent the time he was lying in bed last night thinking about how to finish off getting ready for tonight, but instead the anniversary preparations hadn't even entered his head in comparison to over-analysing a passing talk with Badger.

He got himself so worked up that he even skipped breakfast, something that surprised his mum even more than him. Instead he hastily promised that he'd get lots to eat later, before he rushed out of the door and back over to the underground base.

It felt almost stingingly disappointing when he arrived, only to find that the others had all but finished the decorating without him.

"Sorry Crow, but it was finished after you left last night," Louis informed, "Marilyn said you've been both working too hard and away with the fairies this week, which isn't a great combination, like. So at least now you can just do one but not the other."

"I 'aven't been away with the fairies," Crow huffed, "But all right. I do appreciate the lotta ya getting' this done. At least now we can all relax 'til the food needs to be 'ere."

Though Crow spent the rest of the day fretting more than relaxing. He was basically pacing and looking for anything to keep his mind distracted from thoughts of Badger until it got to a sensible time to start preparing their evening buffet. And even then, he was pushing on it being too early to go get the sweets from Aunt Taffy.

"She'll not be pleased if we press our noses against the stall before the sweets are done!" Gus argued, as Crow marched ahead of him down the road.

"Maybe. But if we don't get there soon then that North Ely lot will 'ave 'ad off with all the good stuff an' all we'll be left with is pear drops an' aniseed twists," reasoned Crow, "Need to be extra sure to get quality sweets for our special day."

"I quite like pear drops..." mumbled Gus, but he resigned to let Crow lead the way there all the same.

Crow's haste turned out to be for nothing, however, as Aunt Taffy already had some large bags of sweets put to aside for them. Gus had told her earlier in the week that their special day was approaching, as he did every year, so she made sure to be ready for it. And while he might not ever say that it's the Black Raven's special day specifically, just a day that was special to his friends, Aunt Taffy has lived around the market long enough to know what was going on. She just quietly pretended that she didn't.

Fetching the bags back took a grand total of about ten minutes. Not much time shaved off Crow's afternoon.

He left Gus to sort the different sweets out into bowls on the long table they'd put across the stage (maybe helping himself to a few vanilla fudges while he was at it) and instead headed across to Wren and Socket's place.

Out of all of the Black Ravens' families, the sibling's mum was the most in-the-know about her market kids' antics. The majority of sleepovers they had were held at her house for exactly that reason. Well, that and because everyone finds their scruffy dog, Phant, to be adorable. Phant would always manage to sneak into the living room and lick faces during the nights they slept there.

So when they needed a place to do some cooking, Wren and Socket's mum had reluctantly surrendered the kitchen for their use. As Crow stepped through the door to see the flour-covered table and chocolate-splattered walls he could definitely see why she hadn't been so keen on the idea. Phant was even licking at something that had dropped on the floor.

"No! Stop it, Phant!" scolded Socket, "I'm sure dogs ain't suppose to eat that, Wren."

"Well, she wouldn't be eating it if you could just keep the ingredients on the table in the first place," Wren seethed, through gritted teeth.

Even into their teenage years, the two of them bickered like little kids. Crow was told that this was just something siblings did and, having none of his own, just had to take their word for it. Wren and Socket looked after each other when it mattered – Wren in particular would never let anything hurt her little brother. But at the times she wasn't being protective of him, Socket brought out an almost immature side to Wren that nothing else did. Maybe this was a good thing though, since otherwise Wren could often find herself getting too buried in work and studies. She was almost as bad as Crow in that regard. As for Socket, being the youngest Black Raven certainly granted him a few liberties for his behaviour, though more often than not he'd push his luck a bit too far.

"Everythin' goin' all right?" coughed Crow, trying to subtly get their attention.

"Crow!"

Wren all but threw the mixing bowl in the air and Socket started laughing at her. She recovered from this to give him a swift glare, which quickly shut Socket up. Poor Wren always seemed a bit nervous and jumpy around Crow, but he could never figure out why.

"Everything's going great," assured Socket, once he'd recovered from Wren's scowl, "Can't you tell?"

He gestured towards a pile of lumpy scones, cooling off on a metal rack. Although actually, they might not all be scones. Some of them definitely were – Crow could spot cheese ones and fruit ones – but other things on the pile might have just been bread buns. It was hard to tell. What wasn't hard to tell was the amount of love that had gone into making these home-made treats. You'd never see stuff like this in a shop and Crow had no doubts that, while they might not look great, they would taste delicious.

"Can I try one then?" asked Crow, hand already dandling over the pile.

"Wait until tonight like everyone else!" Scocket snapped, "We can't have you eating them all as well as the dog."

"Fair enough. I actually came to see if ya needed a 'and," assured Crow. He reluctantly withdrew his own hand from above the tray.

"A hand...?" the siblings echoed, looking at each other. They were use to just working together, which is why Crow would mostly assign them jobs doing exactly that within the Black Ravens.

"I guess you can," Wren mumbled, "Don't see why not."

"Thanks Wren, I'll try not to muck it up," promised Crow, as he came around the table to help them with the current batch.

Both Wren and Socket quickly saw why Crow isn't usually invited to help with the cooking, though. The clueless boy got under their feet more than they were getting under each other's feet and he forgot about one batch they'd told him to keep an eye on, meaning that when it came out of the oven, all of the cheese twists were burnt to a crisp.

"We'll never get the smell of onions out of here now," Socket moped, "Mum's gonna go spare when she gets back."

Even Phant wasn't disappointed to see that batch of baked goods go directly into the bin.

"Look, Crow... it's not that we don't appreciate your help, but... w-well, actually, I think Scraps was trying to scrounge some ingredients from Paddy's Place. You're better with words than he is, so maybe you could help him out," suggested Wren.

Crow could tell when he wasn't wanted.

"All right, I'll go see wot I can do," replied Crow. He wasn't too keen on sticking around to ruin any more of the evening's food anyway.

As he turned to walk outside, Wren called after him.

"Crow...?"

"Yeah?"

"I-I think that... you should, um, talk to Badger... he might, well, I just think you should."

"Thanks Wren, I'm sure I'll catch 'im around."

It was hard not to feel increasingly unsettled as he headed out of the market and up towards Paddy's Place. First Marilyn and now Wren seemed to know what was up with him. Exactly how obvious had he been? It isn't as if he'd talked about Badger much more than usual since he realised that... that he kind of liked him.

Regardless, he put this out of his mind when he reached Misthallery's favourite restaurant and pushed his way through the back door. It might have been a bit rude, but if Paddy had customers up front then he wouldn't have wanted scruffy kids running through the main entrance. The Black Ravens were familiar with Paddy, he affectionately thought of them as an annoyance, so it wasn't unusual for one of them to sneak in this way and try to bargain for some dinner.

Scraps was already way ahead in that regard. He was stood on a small stool, cleaning dishes in a bubbly sink. Each one was coming out sparkling and you'd never be able to guess from his cleaning skills that Scraps spent most of his days searching through piles of rubbish for discarded treasures. Chances are, Paddy wouldn't have let him do much cleaning if he'd known that either.

"The ol' fella got ya workin'?" Crow enquired.

Scraps didn't look over, but he replied, "Paddy says he'll let us have what's left of today's chicken broth and any of the lamb that doesn't sell, since he can't keep this batch much longer anyway. He'll even cook it up nicely for us."

Just the thought of Paddy's lamb dishes were enough to make Crow's mouth water. Hopefully they'll get some roast potatoes and boiled vegetables to go along with them...

"Wot about Lozza?" checked Crow.

"He's got a beetroot and parsnip soup that Louis can have instead of the broth," answered Scraps, still diligently scrubbing a baking tray, "I'll see what else I can worm out of him if Louis wants more. Which he probably will."

"Fair enough. So anyway, do ya need any 'elp with them?" offered Crow.

"No."

Scraps was known for his bluntness, not for his tact.

"Come on, surely the job'll go fastah with two pairs o' 'ands," Crow pleaded.

"We both know you're only here to distract yourself because you're feeling like a loose end. If any of these plates get broken, Paddy will want us to fork out money for replacements, instead of him forking out food for us," Scraps muttered, "Go back to the market and pester Badger for a while."

"I might just do that," grumbled Crow, "But just... call us when ya need 'elp bringin' all that stuff down."

"Will do," dismissed Scraps. His tone had a finality that said conversation was over.

So the dejected Crow made a slow march back to where to came from, feeling pretty useless for all the help he hadn't managed to give Wren, Socket or Scraps. He had a strong suspicion that Gus and Roddy would be the ones Scraps would call to help him carry the food as well, since they're better at heavy lifting than he is.

Maybe he should just talk to Badger while he has the chance to do so. But the nervous northern lad had seemed so determined to get his speech ready last night and Crow couldn't offer him much more advice that didn't feel hollow. All he'd probably do is serve as a distraction, considering how on edge Badger seemed to be about the whole thing.

But regardless, he made his way to the lookout post, where not much looking out was happening at all. As he turned the corner, Crow could see Badger walking back and forward across the post, arms moving about as he mouthed some words into the air.

"Goin' well then?" Crow called, hoping not to give Badger a fright this time.

Thankfully, it seemed that Crow had been spotted as he approached. Badger walked over to the edge of the platform and smirked down at him, leaning on the railing.

"Well enough. No thanks t' you," hummed Badger. There was an air of confidence to him that only showed up rarely. Crow supposed that it must have come from spending a lot of the day talking, which was definitely unusual for Badger.

"Come on, that was great advice an' ya know it," Crow reasoned

"Maybe so, but I've still not got any more t' say about you than that you're a difficult birdie," informed Badger.

Crow blew a hair out of his face, pretending to be irritated; "Ya could always say that I chased ya around the market in a great Black Raven outfit 'til ya joined up. Then I 'elped ya outta ya shell, to become the best sprintah Mist'allery's evah known."

"Yeah, I could say that you nagged us all t' join, I s'ppose," translated Badger, "But I think we all know that alreadeh."

"That's propah mean, Badge'!" Crow whined.

"S'true though," Badger insisted.

"Ya must 'ave somethin' nice to say about me. Even just one thing," pressed Crow.

Whatever spell of confidence had briefly been cast over Badger seemed to break in that moment. He hesitated, arms quivering on the railing as he looked down at Crow. It was hard to tell, but beneath his mess of hair it seemed that his face looked slightly flushed.

Instantly feeling guilty and a bit awkward himself, Crow was about to say that Badger didn't have to answer that, but it seemed that Badger had worked up enough nerves to find something.

"...I-I wouldn't b-be Badgeh without... without you..." he whispered, so quietly that Crow only just managed to hear it.

"That's very-"

"Come on, you two!"

They were interrupted by Louis and Gus rushing over, the latter panting heavily as they drew level with Crow.

"What you both hanging around here for? Wren and Socket have, like, a million scones they need help getting into the base," Louis told them.

Typical. Crow's spent all day being turned away from jobs to do and now that he'd finally found something rather important to occupy his time with, they finally have a job for him.

The moment is well and truly past, with Badger scrambling down the ladder and making to follow the other two without so much as a glance at Crow. It was maybe for the best, because Crow felt that he couldn't meet Badger's gaze right now either. Why was all this so difficult to say...?

By the time they'd organised the baked goods on the table with the sweets, leaving enough room for the cooked food from Paddy's, they all needed to dash off to bring back the lamb, broth, soup and other mouth-watering goods. Paddy had been generous this year, but even so probably more of them went to carry the food back than was probably needed.

After that had been sorted out, they all agreed that they might as well get the party started.

It was a relaxed evening, focused on just hanging out with friends and having some good food at the same time. Some years they would have a lot more extravagant celebrations, with fireworks and darting around the rooftops, but now that the tourist trade of the Golden Garden saw the black market also get a lot busier, they were all ready to just spend one day unwinding.

Crow was certainly happy to see the smiling faces of his friends as he walked around the auction hall. He couldn't ask for a better group to run the Black Ravens with.

Amongst all of the group, only Badger wasn't present in the room. He'd shut himself away in the store room, saying that he still needed time to prepare. It was hard not to feel sorry for him, knowing that he'd probably got himself so worked up over the speech. He couldn't enjoy the party like that. And worse still, if the others told him he didn't have to do it at this stage then it'd probably make him feel like he'd failed... It was a lose-lose situation.

So all the while Crow kept an eye on the door. He was watching it when it eventually creaked open and Badger poked his head out into the room. Before he could lose his nerve and shuffle back inside again, Crow quietly started to nudge the other Black Ravens in the general direction of the stage. He hoped that it wouldn't look too much like they were pressuring Badger, but it did seem like their attention encouraged him out of the room.

Badger walked around the long table, to the front of the stage. He scratched his head nervously as the others took to some of the empty auction seats, all eyes on him.

"Um. Y-you all know I'm not great with words, like..." Badger began. He swallowed and was shaking noticeably, "An' I've spent all week practisin' a speech. It were gonna be a long one, tellin' each o' you 'ow much you mean to me... B-but I reckon you a-alreadeh know that an' I doubt me nerves would stick around that long. So I just w-wanna say that... that I were a lump o' nowt special when I first moved 'ere. No one back in Manchesteh wanted to be my friend, so I thought that I were useless. But you all showed me that I'm betteh than that. An' you made me into summit more than I were before. Even if I am still rubbish at talkin'. So thank you for believin' in me."

He was looking directly at Crow as he finished, but the moment was soon swept away in the face of everyone else clapping and cheering for him. There were some affectionate insults from Socket and a pat on the back from Louis. Clearly everyone was just as proud of Badger as Crow was, so Crow knew it was all of their time to spend with Badger. As much as part of him wanted to talk to Badger on his own...

That chance would come much later in the evening. Or maybe it was morning now. They'd all stayed up so late it was hard to tell. All Crow knew was that he was rubbing his eyes and a few of the others had dropped off a while ago. Wren and Socket were gently curled up together, Louis was snoring loudly in one of the chairs, Roddy was looking for something he could use for ear-plugs against Louis's snoring, Marilyn and Gus were packing away the leftover food from the table and Scraps appeared to be hiding under said table.

That left Crow and Badger, sat together at the back of the auction hall in a companionable silence that almost managed to negate all of the awkward feelings between them. Almost.

Crow sighed with content, breaking the quiet moment they'd been holding.

"I know everyone's already said it, but that was a propah good speech, Badge'," he praised.

A sheepish grin appeared on Badger's face; "Maybe, but I doun't think I'll be runnin' for mayor any time soon. Or even doin' the auctions. I still dunno 'ow you do all those without clammin' up."

"Some people are just good at talkin', I guess," answered Crow, "But there are some things that make me lose my words."

"Go on, tell me one," Badger challenged.

Crow looked across at him. He could already feel all of the words draining away as he did. Part of him wished he could go back to how he had been before, when he's regarded Badger with the same sort of aloof fondness that he did all of his friends. While another part of him relished in these weird new feelings. It was strange to admit that he could get use to feeling funny around Badger.

However, he still had a question to answer.

"It's not any fun if I just tell ya," Crow dismissed, going a slight shade of red, "That's somethin' ya gonna 'afta figure out for yaself, Badge'."

Badger snorted loudly.

"I were right before. You are the biggest pillock eveh, Crowlo," he confirmed.

"Maybe. But I'm your pillock, ain't I?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you are."

And, for the moment, that was all there was between the two of them that needed to be said.


End file.
